Mistakes
by thedayyoufindoutwhy
Summary: Dan comes home upset for a surprising reason. *EDIT* The correct first chapter has been uploaded so the story is actually continuous now! Sorry to everyone who read it wrong.
1. Chapter 1

I heave my weight against the arm of the couch, trying to push it into a new position. I take a step back to survey my progress. If I'm lucky, it's moved about an inch. _Maybe if I go at it from a different angle…_ I sit on the ground and start pushing at it with my feet. No such luck. I could always leave it the way it is, I think. Just as I'm about to officially give up, I hear the door click open.

_Dan's home_, I think with a smile. My heart beats a little quicker at the thought.

The door slams shut load enough to shake the walls. "Dan?" I call, peeking over the arm of the couch just in time to see him hurry past me. The door to his room clicks shut. "Well then."

I follow after him, abandoning my efforts. Something has clearly got him upset.

I don't bother knocking. Dan sits on his bed, facing the window with his back to me. One of the first things I notice off about him is his clothing. Rather than one of his customary t-shirts, he has on his white button up with a vest over it. I've only ever seen him wear this once before: on his first date with his girlfriend of almost one year, Jamie.

_As long as he's happy, I'm happy_, I tell myself, repeating the words that have become my mantra over the past few months. And he is happy with her, I remind myself. Happier than he could possibly be with me. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and turn my focus back to Dan.

Upon closer examination I notice that his shoulders are shaking.

"Dan?" I say. The shaking becomes less prominent, like he's trying to hide from me how upset he is. "Is everything okay?"

He clears his throat. "I'm fine," he says. His tone is convincing enough that I almost believe him. I step farther into the room, trying to determine how much pushing is too much.

"I can tell you're not," I say softly. I walk around to look at him, and sure enough there are tears streaming down his face. "What happened?" Instead of answering me, or rather as an answer, he hands me a small velvet box I hadn't noticed he was holding. If I didn't know better, I would say it looked like a—

_Holy shit_. Dan lets out a choking sound which makes me wonder whether or not I said that in my head like I intended to.

"Um, Dan?" I crack open the box, and sure enough there's a diamond ring inside. A pretty nice one, too. He must have been saving up for ages in order to buy it…

"Did you ask her to…?" I trail off, afraid to finish the question. He nods. I feel sick. "Holy shit." I'm sure I said it out loud this time. Between the look on Dan's face and the fact that I'm holding a fucking diamond ring in my hands, I can pretty assuredly guess her answer. "Oh, Dan."

The edge of the bed sinks under my weight, shifting him so that his shoulder rests against mine. He leans into me, like he's craving the touch of another human being. I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, not hesitating for a second to fill our mutual need for human contact. He turns his head and buries it in my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my waist.

He starts to cry like I have never seen a person cry before. His entire body shakes beneath me, like his heart wants out of his chest and it's banging against every conceivable surface of his body in order to get what it wants. His tears quickly soak my shirt, his breath slamming violently against my skin.

He loves her and it's killing him.

I love him and it's killing me.

Why is love such a killing thing?

We sit there for an indeterminable amount of time; him crying and me holding him, my heart breaking right along with his. Finally, he runs out of tears and lets go of me, wiping at his red rimmed eyes. I wait for him to talk.

Instead, he grabs the ring box from where I dropped it on the bed and hurls it at the wall. It slams rather violently against the plaster before dropping to the ground.

And then he loses it. He throws his side table over, his things tumbling to the ground, and when that isn't enough he throws his fist against the wall.

"Dan!" I shout. He doesn't listen to me, lost in his own little world of hurt and anger. I step forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and forcing him against me, trying to stop him from doing further damage.

"Let. Me. Go!" he screams out. He manages to pull away from me before whirling on me. "Do you know what she told me when I—proposed?!" he yells, his voice breaking. I shake my head. "She said that she wanted to break up with me a month ago but was waiting for the right time." My jaw clenches at that, but I let him get out what he needs to. "While I was buying a fucking ring she had already decided I wasn't good enough for her." He punches the wall again. Our landlord's going to be pissed.

"Dan," I say, taking a step towards him. His shoulders heave with his breaths. "It's going to be okay—"

"Okay?! Nothing is even remotely _okay_, Phil." Blood begins to drip over the knuckles of his shaking hands.

"I _promise_ it will—"

"Shut up, Phil." His voice is ice and fire.

"Dan—"

"I said shut the fuck up Phil!" he yells, turning on me. For a second, I'm afraid he's going to hit me. "You can't get a single girl in all of London to go on a date with you so don't stand here and pretend you have any idea what I'm feeling right now!" I feel my face get hot as I stare at my best friend in absolute shock. No, he didn't hit me. He's done much worse than that.

"I haven't dated anyone," I say, my voice chillingly monotone," because I'm in love with you." I should be feeling_ something _right now, but I can't. I'm beyond feeling.

Dan's face changes when he sees my expression; hatred and anger giving way to regret.

"Phil—"

But I'm already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

(Dan P.O.V)

Phil still isn't back yet. _How could I have been so monumentally stupid? _My mouth tastes foul. I'm such an idiot.

My brain tries furiously to process the shit-storm that was tonight, but I'm too tired. I tried to go to bed, but my brain absolutely refuses to turn off. I can't sleep without figuring things out and I can't figure things out without sleep. Talk about a Catch-22.

I end up sitting on the stairs, staring at the front door and thinking more than I want to.

I think of Jamie's face, seconds after I proposed to her. Horror and regret. Like the thought of being married to me was repulsive and she regretted not breaking it off sooner. Which is of course exactly what she felt. I should be thinking only of her, the girl I spent the last year loving. That's what any normal man in my situation would be thinking.

But my thoughts can't help but drift to Phil.

Phil, who looked at me today with both so much love and so much agony that anything I feel—or felt—for Jamie seems dull in comparison. The diamond ring lying on my bedroom floor isn't even fractionally as important as the silence left without Phil. _Did I ever really love Jamie?_

I feel nauseous, but there's nothing in me to throw up.

It's three a.m. and Phil's not home.

I've tried calling him, but he won't pick up.

I'm so tired.

I'm so heartbroken.

Where the hell is Phil?

**0.0.0**

(Phil P.O.V)

One of my favorite things about London is that there is a pub three blocks from the flat where the only thing that matters is exactly how hammered you want to get. The bartender can tell when you need to talk and you need to be left alone. He's also very good at keeping a steady flow of alcohol coming, which is nice if that's all you want.

I don't really want to drink tonight. I just want to be somewhere where I'm allowed to be sad.

I go home when the bar closes, any alcohol I'd consumed already burned off. I don't want to forget tonight yet. Maybe later. But not now.

When I switch on the light to the flat, I see Dan, asleep on the stairs. He nearly gives me a heart attack. I want to leave him there. I should leave him there. But right now, he looks so innocent that I can almost forget everything that's happened tonight. Almost, but not quite.

"Dan," I say, sucking as much emotion out of my tone as I can. I shake his shoulder gently. His eyes blink open, and when he sees me, he smiles.

"Phil," he says. "I was worried about you." I avert my eyes. Maybe I should have gotten drunk. Maybe that would have made things easier. I walk past Dan, not bothering to reply to him. "I'm sorry, Phil," he says, staggering to his feet and wiping the sleep out of his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He looks rumpled and adorable. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone revealing the skin of his chest; his rumpled hair falls almost to his eyes.

I want to take his apology and set it on fire. I want to push him against a wall and give him physical bruises to match my emotional ones. I want to kiss him. I want to cry.

Instead I just keep walking.

"Phil, please talk to me," he pleads. Even now, I can't deny him.

"Why did you say those things?" I yell, turning on him without warning. He collides into my chest, then staggers back, looking shocked. I don't blame him. I'm never this confrontational.

"I—I was upset."

"And you took it out on me?!" I ball my fists, digging my fingernails into the flesh of my palms.

"I wasn't—I wasn't thinking—"

"Of course you weren't thinking, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry, Phil!" he says, his eyes watering. I would do almost anything to take away that look. It's not fair, the effect he has on me.

"I know you are," I whisper. I can't look at him right now.

"I can prove it," he says with his Dan-like determination. I was just about to ask him how when he answers me without prompting. He takes a step forward and crushes his lips to mine.

The world comes to a jarring stop. My brain processes things at an accelerated rate, every nerve in my body coming alive under Dan's hands, under his lips. I didn't expect them to be so warm, so strong. I didn't expect his hand to sit so comfortably on the nape of my neck. I didn't expect my eyes to flutter shut, like I was a teenage girl in some sappy romance story.

I didn't expect to ever in my entire life be kissed by him. And it was wonderful.

But it was also wrong.

"What the hell?!" I say, shoving him away. I catch only a glimpse of the day-dreamy happiness on his face before it's wiped away.

"I thought you…?" He looks shocked and confused.

"Do you have any idea what you just did, Dan? I _love _you." The tears that have been building finally come pouring out. I wipe them angrily away.

"I know. That's why—"

I clench my jaw and force my words to come out strong. "No, Dan. I love you. I don't want you to kiss me because you made a mistake. I want you to kiss me because you want to kiss me. Because you _have _to kiss me. I want it to be real."

"Phil," he grabs my hand and pulls me towards him. My palm lands flat over his heart. "Who says it can't be?" His arms are warm around me and he is so solid and Dan and everything in me wants to give in and give up and let myself be loved by him. I allow myself half a second to imagine a world where we're together. Half a second for fantasy. The rest of my life for reality.

I tear myself away from him. "You broke up with the girl you were planning to marry less than 24-hours ago, Dan." I make my voice soft, barely a whisper. "You're suffering from some sort of breakdown—"

"This is not—"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd not bring this up again." I walked to my room without looking back at him. My resolve was already wavering, and I was fearful that one more tiny look would break me.

That night I locked my door for the first time since I moved in with Dan and cried myself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It took about a week of skirting around each other before we started acting somewhat normal again. I think we reached an unspoken mutual agreement that it was best not to talk about it. Easier to sweep it under the carpet and let it collect dust.

Days turned to weeks and then months. The seasons changed and before I knew it, it was Christmas.

On the first day of December, Dan celebrated by bringing home holiday drinks from Starbucks. I can't help but think how adorable he looks when his nose is red from the cold. My lips tingle with the memory of his kiss.

But I was right. He doesn't love me. He never did. I ended up saving us both from a lot of unnecessary pain.

"It's socially acceptable for me to say the C-word now, right?" I ask him with a grin. From my window, I can see a whole line of shops decorated for Christmas. That, mixed with the sweet smell of peppermint mocha is enough to make me nearly explode with anticipation.

"What, cunt?" Dan asks. I throw a pillow at his head, laughing as he moves his body to protect his drink. "Yes, Phil," he says, sitting next to me on the couch, and propping his MacBook on his knees.

"Christmas," I say with a smile and let out a sigh of relief. He chuckles at that and opens Twitter. We fall into a comfortable silence.

"Phil?" Dan says.

"Mmm?" I respond, scrolling through Tumblr. Dan's quiet for a moment. I take a sip of my drink.

Then, "I think I'm gay." I nearly choke on my coffee.

"Excuse me?" Oh, dear God. This is not happening. I look up at him, my eyes wide with surprise.

"Actually, fuck that. I know I'm gay." He leans over and kisses me. This time, nothing is forced, or uncomfortable. He tastes like cinnamon and coffee and—Dan. I lean into him. The kiss is short. Sweet. Everything I wanted our first kiss to be.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, pulling gently away from me.

"For what?" I feel too light-headed to think properly.

"For what I said to you back in July. For being stupid and blind. For not seeing you when you saw me. For a whole list of idiotic things I've done." His eyes are glued to me and I'm absolutely transfixed.

"This is a dream," I whisper, closing my eyes and willing myself to wake up. "This is a dream and when I wake up I'm going to be disappointed but that's okay because I've come to terms with you not loving me and I can live with that."

"Open your eyes, Phil," Dan says.

"I don't want to," I say stubbornly. Because what if this really is a dream? What if I open my eyes and it's not Dan in front of me but my bedroom wall? But this feels so real. God knows how much I want it to be.

"Open your eyes." And because it's Dan and because I am powerless against him I do what he says. He's still there, still Dan, still looking at me with the same adoring look. "I don't deserve you," he says. He presses his lips against mine, his cinnamon kiss making my head spin.

"This is me choosing you," he says. "This is me kissing you because I have to." He runs his thumb over my cheek. "I'm falling for you, Phil Lester." I kiss him quickly, thrilled that that's now something I get to do. "You can have me now, if you want me," he whispers against my lips. I don't think my heart has ever beat this quickly.

"Of course I want you, you idiot," I whisper back, burying my face in his neck. He's solid in my arms. Warm. Dan. "You're all I've ever wanted." The words are quiet enough that I'm not completely sure if he's heard me or not, but his arms are strong enough around me that I get the message.

He has me now.

And he doesn't plan on letting go.


End file.
